The Grudge
by bojangles25
Summary: Jack has lived her entire life fueled by hate and revenge. Can she ever learn to let go of the past? Inspired by the Tool song of the same name. Rated M because you can't do a good Jack story that isn't rated M.
1. The Grudge

**Hey fellow Jack fans! I got this idea after listening a lot of Tool, and this song in particular I thought could fit a Mass Effect character pretty well. It didn't take much thought to realize it would fit Jack really well, as what makes her character so great is how she develops from being so full of hate to a state where she's ready to move on and put it behind her. Hope you enjoy! I'm not sure whether the italicized lyrics add or take away from the story, but I figured they were a good way to cover where exactly in Jack's development she is for that section. **

* * *

_Wear the grudge like a crown_

Jack stared at the crimson dripping down the wall, bloodlust coursing through her veins. The guard was dead, face still frozen in fear and shock. Alarms pierced her ears, a pattern of noise that only served to enrage her further. Gunfire and screams beyond the door finally managed to break her concentration on the mess she had made of the body in front of her. A wicked, unnatural smile crossed her face, and she rushed towards the sounds of battle.

No one was safe as she tore through the facility. Sometimes the adults would attack, sometimes the other kids would attack, but more often than not Jack didn't give them the chance. Young, old, man, woman, they all died the same. A few times she heard the guards shouting something about her, something about Subject Zero. It was static, mindless noise. She lost count of how many died at her hands, only vaguely aware of the blood staining her from head to toe. The smile still had not left her face. Two teenage boys rushed towards her, glowing blue with biotics. She recognized them from the fights, two that they had not allowed her to kill. They were no match for her, as she sent a biotic field at them, sending the boys flying a nearby wall. They would not get to live this time. Their pleas for mercy were music, urging Jack to kill. Bones broke beneath her fists, and she laughed.

A shuttle was docked, her escape finally in sight. Everyone had tried to stop her, try to kill her, and now their blood painted the walls, their broken and twisted corpses evidence of her power. Another Cerberus guard came running her way, firing her gun. Jack through up a barrier, rendering the shot useless, before lifting the guard in the air and slamming her to the ground. The snap of bone through skin preceded a blood curling scream. Jack contemplated finishing the job, but she needed to escape, now, before the adults and the other kids realized they should team up. She could hear them as they continued to fight elsewhere in the facility, and both had been shouting something about her name as she passed. They all wanted her dead, that much had become clear during her escape. They could all go to hell, she was leaving. Boarding the shuttle, she quickly found she did not know how to fly it. With no other option, she began pressing everything she could, screaming for the shuttle to start. Eventually it did, and she screamed in triumph this time.

The shuttle had been floating in space for at least two days now, and Jack would run out of food in two more. Already her stomach was growling, dissatisfied with the meager portions it had been receiving. Her arms ached, her legs ached, and her eyes were red and raw from crying. The blood covering her body had dried, leaving her skin an ugly rust color. She wanted to go home. She realized she had never had a home. She missed her desk. It had been the only safe place in her life.

Jack had lost track of the days, when the heavy thump of boots on metal woke her from her starved, dehydrated sleep. She looked up, vision blurry from tears and darkness, the gleam of metal and flashlight off a gun harsh after so many days of next to no light. None of their faces were visible behind their helmets, and their voices were distant whispers she could not understand. One of them eventually moved forward, picking her up and carrying her in his arms. She heard a laugh. If she had the strength, she would have hugged them. She had finally been saved.

* * *

_Clutch it like a cornerstone_

Jack woke, the cold metal around her neck, wrists, waist, and ankles little more than a nuisance. One wrist broke loose from its shackles, quickly followed by another. One leg broke free as she ripped loose the metal digging into her neck. The other leg broke free as she freed her waist. She fell forward, free, and very, very angry. The first thing she saw were two large mechs turning towards her. Her face contorted in anger, remembering how she had been caught and placed in this prison in the first place. As she stood, she remembered the taunts from the guards, the fear on the faces of the other prisoners, the way the warden talked of using her. She would never allow Pragia to happen again. These people would sell her to Cerberus, and she would never let that happen. She rushed towards the mechs, entire body aglow with biotic energy. They came apart with ease. Jack remembered how much fun killing was.

Just like before, everyone tried to kill her. Just like before, they all died. They all deserved it. She tore a path through the facility, if a wall blocked her way, she ripped it away. If a person stood in front of her, she tore them apart, or time did not allow cripped them to ensure they could not follow. She made her way to the docking bay, seeing the ship outside. The insignia on the hull was one she recognized. Cerberus. They had come to buy her, just like they did when she was a child. They wanted to bring her back t one of their facilities, where they would again lock her away from the world and use her for their enjoyment. She was grown now. The guards would have fun this time. The rage grew within her the more she stared at the symbol. She began pacing back and forth, contemplating the enjoyment she would get as she tortured every piece of shit aboard that ship.

A gunshot rang out to her left, a dead prison guard falling the ground, crimson staining the ground where his head fell. Three more came behind him, two men armed and armored, a woman in a skin tight suit. Two of them wore the Cerberus symbol on their clothing. The other did not, but he was clearly the leader, Cerberus all the same. He told her he was her to rescue her, that he needed her for a mission. She told him he was full of shit. She asked for access to Cerberus's files on her. He agreed. The woman, the cheerleader whore, she told him he couldn't do that. Those were her conditions to come with them. Again, the leader agreed. She followed to their ship.

* * *

_Defining, Confining, Controlling_

Jack was beginning to like being on this ship. The Normandy, it was called, an improved version of a ship of the same name that Cerberus had built for this mission to stop the Collectors. Not that she gave a shit about any of that. Shepard was giving her things to kill on a regular basis, and so far he hadn't asked anything of her in return other than to kill more in the future. Other than Shepard, they all left her alone. Good thing, if any of those Cerberus fuckers bothered her she would not hesitate to make them pay, both for the inconvenience and for what they had done to her before. Jack didn't care if none of these people had been involved, they were Cerberus. They deserved to pay. Especially that cheerleader bitch, Miranda.

Miranda was so fucking snobby, so unapologetic of all the horrible things her boss was responsible for. Jack only managed not to rip the bitch apart because Shepard kept them apart as much as possible. Shepard, he was a different story all together. He came down to her little slice of heaven beneath engineering all the time, asking her stupid questions that she answered for some reason. She had confronted him last time, asking him what his angle was, if he was just looking for sex. She had been sure that was Shepard's game, they all wanted her either to fight, fuck, or both. Not Shepard. He had told her that was not his goal, that he just wanted to know the people in his crew. Jack had waited until he left to shout that she was not part of his crew.

Maybe Shepard was just a good guy. He had not gone back on his word to give her the file Cerberus held. She spent most her free time looking over it, trying to make sense of it. The facility on Pragia and the sick shit they had done to her was vaguely covered. She had locations, she had names, she had work to do after this shit with the Collectors was done. They would pay. They would all pay. Anyone who tried to stop her would get their names added to the list.

* * *

_Drags you down like a stone, to consume you_

Jack did not want to ask for help, especially not from Shepard. He was such a frustrating son of a bitch, she could not tell if Shepard was treating her with respect or like a science experiment. Either way, she was uncomfortable. It was too late to change her mind now, though. She could hear the footsteps as they clanged down the metal stairs, and only one person every came to see her down here. She tried to calm herself before she saw him, but ended up pacing and rambling about shit crawling around in her head. Shepard said nothing as she walked past, only followed. She told him about Pragia, about growing up there, about how the first thing she remembered was her cell door. She spilled her guts about what Cerberus had done to her. Of course he asked some questions, and she answered them briefly, stressing that the why didn't matter, not to him, not to anyone.

When she told Shepard she wanted to blow the place up, to go there and watch from orbit as the place was blasted from existence, he agreed. She thanked him, and Shepard walked away, no questions, not asking anything in return, nothing. She fucking hated him. She was grateful. And she fucking hated it. Shepard was not the first to try the nice guy act with her, but very few had ever carried on the charade this long. Jack had promised herself she would never fall for anyone's shit ever again, but she was. Shepard had already gained her respect. Anyone that can kill anything that walked the way Shepard did was worthy of everyone's respect. That wasn't a problem. That also wasn't where it stopped. She was beginning to trust Shepard. He was working with Cerberus, but he hated them. He was a cold, calculated, brutal killer on the battlefield, but a good friend and kind man off it. He was more than just the guy that she had to listen to until the Collectors were gone. He was becoming a friend. She fucking hated him.

* * *

_Till you choose to let this go_

How fucking dare he!? This place was an abomination, it needed to be wiped off the map, and this asshole wanted to start it up again. It as bad enough that her head was all clouded and confused because of the shit she had seen so far. She remembered this place, as clear as day. They all hated her, they all wanted her dead. She would fight them while others watched. They performed all kinds of sick experiments on her. Kids, adults, they all deserved to pay. Then she saw the video logs, saying that she was special, that the other kids had suffered and died to make sure their experiments were safe for her. The memories were clear as day in her head, that was not how it happened.

But now this guy was saying the same shit, and Jack knew it was true. It made her hate them all the more. Why her? Why was she the one they did this to? What the fuck did she do to deserve this? At least the other kids had received the mercy of dying rather than live their lives crushed under the guilt. They had done this to her! The scientists, the kids, the guards, the Illusive Man, Cerberus, they all needed to fucking die!

Jack pulled a gun on the coward in front of her. Shepard asked her to put it away. How could she let this bastard live? How could Shepard let this bastard live? She insisted he needed to die, but Shepard was steadfast, telling her she was better than that, that she could move on. She didn't deserve to move on. She was a monster, every bit as much as the man cowering on his knees beneath her. This was her life, she was a psychotic bitch that would spend her life killing, robbing, and fucking until the day she died, whether that was tomorrow, in a month, in a year, or decades from now.

The gun lowered. Goddamn it, she had no idea why, but she was listening. She told the son of a bitch to run, and they planted the bomb. Before they armed it, she asked Shepard to let her look around. Despite everything that happened here, it was still home, the only home she ever had. She remembered the one way window, how she would stand near it, screaming at the kids outside. The bed, where she would tie the sheets around her wrists. The desk that had been her only safe haven, her only friend. The blood stain outside the cell, a permanent mark from the first man she ever killed. She wanted to leave. She didn't want to come back here ever again. She wanted it all to end.

* * *

_Let go_

Jack felt relief. She felt pride. She felt the bloodlust waning as it left her body and she calmed down. She felt all the emotions typical to her when a fight was over. There was something else though, and it was not bothering her like she expected it to. She felt happiness. Not just that she was alive, but that everyone was alive. Even the cheerleader, who had told the Illusive Man to go fuck himself back on the Collector Base. Jack was checking her pistol when Shepard walked in the room, a triumphant glow around him. Jack offered the briefest of nods in his direction. She couldn't pretend she had put everything behind her. She couldn't pretend she was a good person. But for the first time, she wanted to be. Life was too short and too precious to waste on what happened in the past. Jack was only sorry it took her so long to realize it.

* * *

**There it is! I thought this turned out pretty well, with a great song by a great band as inspiration. Review at your pleasure, I'm always open to feedback, good or bad. :)**


	2. Schism

_I know the pieces fit_

Jack woke early, slipping out of the bed and scurrying to the bathroom, grabbing her clothing along the way. Once inside, she lazily threw her clothes to the ground and turned on the shower. She peeked at the mirror for a second, studying herself. Her mascara had smudged again, drying on her cheeks. Her lipstick was no longer there, likely smudged on a pillow. There were bright red marks on her neck and upper chest. All of that was a sight Jack was used to. What she wasn't used to, what was frightening her, was the smile. Not just the smile, but everything about her looked…happy. Content. Satisfied. That wasn't her. This was a different woman she saw in the mirror. One capable of life, of love, of hope, one who did not hate herself whenever she saw her reflection, who didn't spend every day doing whatever she could to forget herself and her life. And surprisingly, she did not hate what she saw. Instead, she resolved to try and embrace it.

She closed her eyes as she enjoyed the feel of the shower's hot water against her bare skin. The events of a week ago played out in her mind. Walking to the room, feeling a strange mixture of nervousness and hope. Seeing Shepard, and having the fear grow within her. Trying to talk to him, and failing miserably. The comfort of his own words, so impossibly reassuring. Falling into his arms, willingly giving of herself. His tender caresses and soft kisses. The strange yet satisfying act of making love, of knowing the man she shared a bed cared for her. Everything about that night had been so strange, so alien to her, but not in a bad way. She found herself growing used to it, even liking it. The water began to grow cold, and she turned it off, having long ago finished scrubbing herself clean.

After drying herself off, Jack gathered her clothes in her arms. Again, she looked at herself in the mirror. So far, her nights with Shepard ended when she left the bed and got in the shower. Staying the night was not something she felt comfortable with. If that disappointed Shepard, he had said nothing yet, treated her no differently. Still, Jack wondered. The reflection she saw in the mirror now was one she knew well, but tried her hardest to avoid. No makeup, no blood, no bruises. There was nothing to hide her real self from view. In that moment, she made a spontaneous decision, dropping her clothes back to the ground. She was out of the bathroom before she had a chance to change her mind.

Shepard snored lightly as he slept, and Jack moved quietly back to his bed. She knew from experience that he was easily woken, a practice developed from his years in the Alliance. As silently as she could manage, she slipped under the blanket, her back to Shepard. She inched as close as she could, still trying her hardest not to wake him. When one of his arms wrapped around her waist, gently pulling Jack closer, she assumed she had failed in that mission, and turned her head to look at him. Shepard still appeared to be asleep, and after a brief interruption began snoring again. Jack smirked, and closed her eyes.

When she woke again, Shepard was not in bed. After taking a few moments to fully wake up, Jack got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom, where she remembered dropping her clothes after her shower. She had just finished when the cabin door could be heard opening, and loud footsteps echoed in the silence of the quarters. The footsteps stopped briefly, assumingly as Shepard looked around, and then they came over near the bathroom door. A chair rolled away from a desk, and it sounded like Shepard plopped down onto it.

Jack couldn't resist the chance to have a little fun. The minute the door opened, she sprinted forward and locked her left arm around Shepard's neck, hard enough to be uncomfortable but not enough to actually choke him. He still reacted like she thought he would, as if his life was actually in danger, standing up despite Jack's weight draped on him. She kept the hold in place and wrapped her legs around him, clinging to him as he spun around, trying to both remove her arm and shake her off. Her laughter mixed with his groans of effort, and eventually the two of them ended up back near the bed. Shepard fell backwards, landing on top of Jack, who despite the soft mattress beneath her had the wind knocked from her lungs. She let go, still laughing weakly. Shepard glared at her. "What the hell, Jack?!"

Jack sat up on the bed. "Not bad, Shepard. I wonder what you would do if I was really attacking you."

Shepard scoffed. "If you are still wondering how I would stop someone from killing me, then you haven't been paying attention at all." He grinned, that fucking grin he had that made Jack grin sheepishly back at him. What a pathetic little girl he reduced her to. He was probably about to ask her about staying the night and embarrass her to the point of anger. "If you want breakfast, you better hurry. There's steak and eggs, actual good steak and eggs, and its going fast."

"Then I better hurry up before the rest of the fatasses on this ship leave nothing to eat." Jack looked away, studying her fingernails for no reason but to avoid looking at Shepard.

She stood and hurried past Shepard. "I'll see you later?" he said, making sure she would know he was asking a question and not assuming anything.

Jack looked back. "Yep. See you later."

* * *

_Because I watched them fall away_

"I don't like this, Shepard," Jack said, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes focused on him as he donned his armor. "You're out of your fucking mind if you actually do this alone. You have to take someone."

"Hackett asked me not to," Shepard replied, securing the last of his armor. He reached for a pistol. "If a squad goes in, they will kill this Dr. Kenson."

"Then don't bring a fucking squad, bring one other person," Jack said.

Shepard placed the pistol in a holster at his waist. "I can't."

"Then don't go at all, goddamnit!" Jack shouted. "Do you realize how fucking stupid this is? If this isn't a trap then I'm a goddamn virgin!"

Shepard stayed silent, deciding to glare at her. She glared back. He grabbed a shotgun and walked away, back to the CIC. Jack continued to stare as he did so, the fury building within her.

If anyone cared about why Jack was angry, they never bothered to come down and ask. That was the way she liked it. She never left her spot underneath engineering for the remaining few hours until Shepard left on his bullshit rescue mission, spending that time cursing and throwing shit around. Clothes, guns, her pillows, her mattress, the stupid little keepsakes she kept from missions, all of it was flung violently against a wall at some point. When there was nothing else to throw, she settled on sitting at her bunk, head in her hands.

Once Jack realized why she was so fucking angry, it only made her fucking angrier. She cared, she fucking cared. It had been a long, long time since she cared about anyone other than herself, and that had ended in disaster. Caring always ended in disaster, and she knew it. Either the person or people you cared about were assholes, using you to get something, or they went off and got themselves killed, leaving you to feel like shit and spend days crying over them, and the rest of your life mourning. Jack wanted nothing to do with that anymore, she had promised herself nobody else would ever make her care again.

Why did she care to begin with? Shepard wasn't anything like her. Everything about him was the opposite of her. He was selfless and brave. He was charismatic. He was a great speaker. He inspired others. He cared about those he came into contact with, whether he knew them or not, and did what he could to help them. He didn't curse very often. He didn't drink much, didn't smoke. Everything about Shepard was so put together, it used to make her sick how much of a goody two shoes he was.

Who the hell was Jack in comparison to that? Some broken little girl, drinking, cursing, and fucking to forget her pain. She came onboard not giving two shits about anyone, and liked it that way. She got to go out and kill Collectors and mercenaries and whoever else Shepard asked her to. Everyone left her alone, except for Shepard. That was great. That was how she liked things. Then came Shepard, strolling down to talk to her all the time. And still she wondered, what the hell was it that made her so special. Not like the rest of the girls on this ship wouldn't drop their panties for him, and even a few of the guys. What made her so goddamn special?

Jack lay back on her bed, not finally ready to say fuck it and forget. She was only driving herself crazy. A data pad lay on the ground nearby, somehow still intact after she threw it. She picked it up, and saw it was some of the poems she wrote. Bored, and wanting to distract herself, she began reading them. Shit, they were so bad. She'd have to make sure no one else saw them.

* * *

_Point the finger, blame the other_

A clanging sound echoed through Jack's quarters as someone came down the stairs, and Jack didn't have to be a fucking psychic to know who it was. For a brief moment, she considered using her biotics to break the fucker in half. For a moment after that, she considered hiding under the bed. Anything to avoid talking to this son of a bitch. She ended up settling for a hostile glare as Shepard came into view. He walked her way, his every step hesitant. Neither of them said a word while Shepard sat on the bed next to her. Jack immediately moved as far as she could away from him. Shepard sighed, and she resisted the urge to knock his teeth out.

Three days had passed since the Alpha Relay incident, and two since Shepard had agreed to turn himself in to the Alliance. He would be held in custody and put on trial for the deaths of three hundred thousand Batarians. Jack expected everyone else on the ship to talk some sense into him, to tell him he was doing the stupidest thing imaginable. Instead, these bastards and bitches had all told him they understood, that he was doing the right thing. Miranda, the goddamn Cerberus cheerleader, was the only one besides Jack that argued with him. Shepard hadn't listened to her any more than he had listened to Jack. The Normandy was currently on a path to Earth, where Shepard would place himself and the Normandy under Alliance custody. "What the fuck are you doing here, asshole?" Jack asked, unable and unwilling to hide the disdain in her voice.

"Jack, it doesn't have to be this way…"

"Just shut the fuck up," she interrupted. "Seriously, I don't want to hear your good guy speeches or boy scout bullshit. Just leave me in peace and let me forget all fucking about you."

Shepard's stare was almost a physical presence, pulling her attention back to him. Reluctantly, Jack snuck a quick peek in his direction. Even in that brief look, she could see the sadness he felt. Jack quickly looked away again, refusing to buy into his bullshit. If he cared that much, he wouldn't be turning himself in. "Jack, I'm not going to beg you to accept this. I thought that after all this time, you would understand why I have to turn myself in."

"Well I don't. At all."

He sighed. "Then I guess you didn't change as much as I thought you did."

Jack looked at him now, staring directly into his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought you were beginning to drop this 'me against the world, I can't ever trust anyone' bullshit act you had when you first came on board." Shepard finally looked away from Jack, right when she didn't want him to. "I thought you were finally being the person I know you really are."

"And what person is that?" Jack asked combatively.

He met her eyes. "A good, strong, loyal person. A person who is fiercely loyal to those who earn her trust. A person who understands why selfless acts are sometimes required, and had the strength to be that selfless." He paused, a wariness to his next words. "I thought you were someone who cared about me, and knew I cared about you."

Jack laughed, a bitter, harsh laugh. "All that bullshit about selflessness, and you're just as selfish as me. This is all about you, all about you wanting me to be your girl, to wait for you like some pathetic lovestruck teenager. It's all about you wanting me to worship you like all the other losers on this ship. If you don't know that that isn't me, then you're a lot stupider than _I_ thought."

The cold anger in his eyes at that moment was something that had never been directed at her before. Despite her own anger, she could not help but cower slightly before him. "Alright. At least now I know where we stand." He stood, and without a second look, walked back to the stairs and up them. Jack waited five minutes, to be sure he was gone, before screaming as loud as she could.

* * *

_Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication_

It seemed as if everyone in the hallway was staring at her. Jack tried her best to ignore it, as much as she wanted to ask all these people what the fuck they were looking at. She reached a hand up to the short hair she had grown atop her head. It still took some getting used to. She would probably end up changing it once it grew out further. With every step, she grew a little more nervous, and a little more unsure of what exactly she was going to say. She hadn't seen Shepard since the day he turned himself in, two months earlier, and hadn't spoken to him since their blow up before that. He'd probably tell her to fuck off, but Jack was past the point of caring about whether Shepard still wanted her or not. This was something she wanted to do for herself.

A lieutenant commander met Jack at the door, and checked her for contraband. Jack couldn't resist a few crude teases, which the guy didn't react to. Once he was done, he asked her to wait outside for a moment, and went through the door. Jack used the time to consider how exactly she was going to approach this. Should she apologize? Should she tell him she understands? Should she confront him outright about what exactly his interest in her was? Should she just forget the serious talk and try to joke about it? For as much as she liked to be unpredictable, and spent most her life being so, the unpredictability of this upcoming conversation was driving her fucking crazy. She was deeply regretting never talking to Shepard after their argument. Now he had spent two months alone in a prison cell masquerading as living quarters, with little to do but dwell on the bad shit in his life. Her included.

The lieutenant commander walked back out of the room, and told her she had ten minutes. Jack took a deep breath, and walked through the door. Shepard was staring out the window, looking down on the streets below. She could see his reflection in the window, the dark circles under his eyes and the thinness of his face. He did not turn around. "Hey, Shepard," she greeted, not knowing how else to break the ice.

"Hey, Jack," he greeted back.

Neither said anything for a few moments, and Jack realized he was waiting for her. "You probably spend a lot of time looking out that window, huh?"

Shepard shrugged. "Not much else to do. I have limited extranet access, only two books, which I've read three times each, and I'm not allowed many visitors. So I end up staring out the window most days."

"Sounds boring as shit. Regretting turning yourself in yet?"

"Did you come here to try and convince me I did the wrong thing?" Shepard asked testily. "You should just leave if you did."

Jack felt the anger rise. She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, and calmed herself. Don't get mad, she told herself. "I came here to apologize," she said, deciding to just say it. "I was a complete bitch to you, and I'm sorry. I get why you did this, it may not be my style but I understand."

Shepard finally turned to look at her, skepticism in his stare. "I appreciate that, but there's no need to apologize. We disagree on what I should have done, we're different people."

"We are, but if I was more like you the galaxy would be a much better place." Jack looked away nervously, not believing the shit she was about to say. "I've been trying to be a better person. After you turned yourself in, the Alliance offered me a job teaching kids at Grissom Academy. I've been there about a month now. I kind of like it, though the kids can be little shits sometimes. Teenagers, you know?" Shepard chuckled lowly. "Shepard, I know I was a bitch to you. I wouldn't blame you if you gave up on me, but…" Jack hesitated. "…but I was kind of hoping you could forgive me, and we could give this another try."

Shepard stepped a little closer, appearing to be uncomfortable. "Grissom, huh? Is that why you're dressing a little more conservatively these days?"

Jack looked down at her clothes, which weren't' exactly conservative at all, just more so than usual. She was showing quite a bit of cleavage, and her midsection was bare. She reached a hand up to her hair again. "Yeah, well…wait, don't distract me, asshole! Come on, just answer the damn question."

"Sorry," Shepard said, grinning briefly. The grin quickly left his face. "Jack, you really pissed me off, and having two months alone in a small room just left me time to dwell on what happened. You of all people appreciate a person who's straight with you, so I'll just go ahead and say it. I'm still pissed off. Right when I thought we turned a corner, and you were trusting me, you completely obliterated that line of thinking. I don't even know what the hell that was between us anymore. I thought it was something more than sex, but now I don't know."

Again, Jack had to bury her anger. Of course it was more than that, retard, she almost said. "It was, Shepard. That's probably why I reacted the way I did. I'm not a gooey, lovey-dovey type of person. I've spent my life avoiding the way I was beginning to feel about you. It's a process, one I'm still in the midst of." Shepard turned away from her again, and Jack moved closer. "Damn it, I'm here, right? That should tell you I'm at least interested in fixing this shit between us."

Shepard rubbed the back of a chair, looking like he didn't want to look at her. "I guess that's true."

Jack placed her hand on the chair as well, though she didn't touch his. "I'm not going to beg. If you're not interested, I'll move the fuck on, I've done it before. So its up to you. You know how I feel."

She couldn't look at him now, the embarrassment too much. A hand enveloped hers, and she looked over to see it was Shepard's. "How about this? I'm stuck in here, so no matter what we want we can't exactly have it. So let's wait until I get out of here, and see how we feel about it."

Jack had never particularly thought about that. "I guess that's true. You're interested, though?"

"Of course I am," Shepard said. "If I wasn't, I would have told the LC to tell you to fuck off."

"That's what I pretty much expected you to say," Jack said. "The part about telling me to fuck off, I mean."

"Would you get mad if I said I was considering it?"

"Not at all," Jack said, laughing. "I guess you're right. We should probably wait until this stupid fucking trial is over before we decide for sure." They stood by each other silently. "Would you be opposed to a little reconciliation bang?"

Shepard eyed her lustily. "We have like five minutes until you have to leave."

Jack grabbed Shepard by the collar, dragged him around the chair, and pushed him down. Her eyes were clouded with desire as she straddled him. "Challenge accepted."


End file.
